


Keeping Watch

by intheheart



Series: Awake [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3869665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intheheart/pseuds/intheheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keeping Watch is a short Solas POV tale from the camp in between the battle with Corypheus that destroyed Haven and after the trek through the snow. It is a pre-relationship POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Watch

It was his turn to keep watch. He volunteered to sit with Nirwen for a couple of hours.

She had collapsed, drained, near the camp, unsure where she was, talking about her sister, as well as Corypheus, and begging for sleep. In and out of consciousness, she moaned in pain. He joined a healer as Cullen gingerly carried her over to a tent, Cassandra pulling loosened armor from her small, chilled frame. A tunic arranged for her. Amid much sudden activity, workers piled every spare blanket they had upon her. Violent shivers came frequently, while her pounding heart joined shallow, troubled breaths. Something was wrong.

Cassandra cleaned blood from her head as she went in and out. Solas placed a hand to her face, raising her eyelids. Her helmet saved the blow from being much worse, he noted, as a low sigh of relief escaped him.

Exhaustion pulled at her, but pain repeatedly drew her out of sleep entirely. The healer, Ynira, and Solas himself both tended to a half-dozen injuries of concern, including a dislocated shoulder, her head wound, and a couple of broken ribs. Some soreness would linger once she awoke, but her life was assured. 

After nearly an hour, crowd silent, cold, and anxious, but never moving, the blankets and some magical warmth had done their job. She slept, occasionally muttering, but she was warm again, safe, had stopped shivering and regained color. With her injuries healed, Nirwen breathed the regular rhythm of deep sleep. Cassandra dispersed the crowd and returned to a nearby table to discuss plans with Leliana and Josephine.

She would need food and water as soon as her body would allow, but their patience was all that was needed at the moment. Nirwen bought them time.

Now, Solas was awake with his thoughts as most of the others slept or huddled in the quiet night. Tents were all over the clearing and soldiers kept their fires burning. The sharpness of the cold air in his lungs felt refreshing, kept him in the moment. She was still under a pile of blankets, having kicked some of them loose. Solas peeled back several near the top to allow her more breathing room. Nirwen was exhausted. She was weak. Yet, this time, there was no doubt. Unlike the first time he saw her, pale and cold, a shell stubbornly clinging to life, drained by a perversion of his power.

His mind went to the first time he had seen her –pale, cold, a shell, dying, yet holding to life. She showed curiosity, bravery, and even measured cunning. She was becoming quite good at this stubborn survival, wasn't she? He laughed softly at the thought.

Even Solas had to admit to himself that he was relieved at the sight of her arrival. If she had died and lost the Anchor, it would have complicated the situation. He— _they_ couldn't afford to lose her.

With her arrival, the humans chattered about her fate, cheating death once more, an indicator of divine blessing, no matter how she denied or or pressed her own beliefs. People, he knew, sought guidance in a world filled with things they did not understand, and that guidance was sometimes acutely misplaced, perverted, and led to strife. In her, however, she maintained a certain humility and patience thus far. Humility, from one of the Dalish? It was uncertain if this stemmed from her discomfort with the attention, still. No, this was more. She had little reason for guile. This was _her_.

He looked at her face, illuminated by torchlight, knowing that this ease would not last. He thought of her laugh, a mix of nerves and careful humor, as she adjusted to the task before her, the strangeness of this world, its air full of despair and muted optimism. Her grace, manifested in battle, but also in the briefest pauses she took before speaking, thought and care in her eyes.

She had bought them time, but that time would only get this Inquisition so far if their operations lagged along without center. When she was awake once more, he had some guidance to offer.


End file.
